


black pearl

by discountghost



Category: K-pop, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Dark Fantasy, God Slayer!Felix, Gods, M/M, Old Gods, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Temporary Character Death, epic fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discountghost/pseuds/discountghost
Summary: Everything must end, just as it must begin.or: Felix upturns the heavens.
Relationships: Relationships to be added
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	black pearl

**Author's Note:**

> Before you begin reading, I ask that you please mind the tags!! They provide ample warning, and as the story continues, I will likely add more than what I have listed. (And if they don't, please let me know if there's something I need to add!)

#  _ 1. _

A scream cuts through the calm. Jeongin’s head pops up from the grove of flowers, eyes narrowing. It’s not the scream of delight he expects to hear at this hour, when the nymphs and gods are at play. A torrent of bodies rush forth from the silver-stained double doors of the palace.

#  _ 2. _

“Will they not be angered with such choices?”

The other looks sympathetic. His brows raise and his lips press together as he glances out beyond the clouds. It was not his decision to make, but rather to enact. The cruelty of the fates is something he has long since been tired of. Weary is Chan’s gaze when he turns it back to the youngest god. 

“The fates have spoken.”

#  _ 3. _

His footsteps echo through the empty halls. His side burns, stings with each step he takes. The world around him is blurry. He’s already rubbed at his eyes to move the golden splashes from them, but the damage has been done. Not that he is able to see them now. He closes one eye and tries to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Behind him, auric drops on the marble flooring lead to him like a trail of breadcrumbs from the throne room.

Felix sways, slumps against a wall to steady himself for a moment. More time; he must have more time. The clerics, in all their theorizing, have told him time and again the effects of the blood staining his sword. The curved egde winks at him in the perpetual moonlight of this side of the palace. He sucks in a breath before pushing himself upright, the tips of his fingers lingering on the wall. 

He swipes a stain of golden blood along it as he moves on.

#  _ 4. _

When his village falls to the wrath of the gods, Hyunjin knows who to blame. The tears of the ancients are drops of fire that rain down from the heavens. Lightening that strikes the same place twice as people run for their lives. Now, in the back of a caravan, he watches the embers of his home burn low. Whispers are the new currency the refugees use, and they carry a single name. His grip on his bow is tight, knuckles white. The wounds, fresh from pulling up burning timbers, ache in time with the angry march of his heart.

#  _ 5. _

Drunks, while unreliable, make for wondrous sources of potential information. Changbin knows that well enough. He needs, though, a single person that won’t up and swing at him at the mention of the one person he needs to find. He understands; the foolish act of one endangers many. He can appreciate the residual anger drunken bodies house when they aren’t laid out on the ground of working themselves to near death in the mines or the fields.

But, still — he needs any bit of information he can get. So he pulls up a chair as the group goes quiet. Dirty faces of men and women, the true victims of one man’s war. “What can you tell me of the man they call the godslayer?”

#  _ 6. _

His insides feel like they’re on fire. Like they’re being pulled outside of him with a cook chopping them to bits. A cold sweat dots Minho’s forehead as he writhes. He leans over to empty his stomach again. Something is wrong. Someone is gone. He’s not sure what has happened, but he  _ feels _ it clawing at his insides. Attendants rush to him, though they hover uselessly by his bedside. There is nothing that can be done. They must wait it out. 

When the tears leave his eyes, the pan beside his bed is filled with gold.

#  _ 7\.  _

“You’re very lost, way out here.” His voice trembles, not unlike the way the sheep does. The creature bleats at him in response, moves further away. Deeper into the brambles. He hesitates for a moment. It’s all that is needed. Roots coil around the sheep, the bleating more frantic. He thinks they sound an awful lot like the cries of a child. He has only a moment to suck in a breath before Seungmin, too, is dragged away by the creeping roots.

#  _ 8. _

The blade touches his skin and his breath stutters in his throat. It’s a familiar weapon, but not enough that he can place a name to the weilder. At least, not in his panic. Before him are entrails and the husk of someone that once was. His mind isn’t doing well in catching up with what he’s saying, but he can be forgiven. He should be, when he’s inches away from death. The ichor is warm against his skin where it smears along his throat. The blade doesn’t cut through flesh, but he feels as though it might.

His frame trembles as his attacker leans in. He can hear the way the fabrics move as they bend lower. He’s on his knees; he awaits an execution. The voice is deep by his ear. 

“Your god is dead.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this prologue! The rest of the fic won't be in the same fashion, but a lot of this is experimental, so thank you for deciding to follow me on this wacky adventure. I do want to remind everyone that the themes of this are quite dark, so if you're uncomfortable with that, now would be the best time to drop this story.  
> Updates will particularly slow because I started this spur of the moment with no real outline and a vague sense of plot direction that's being pulled together as I type this lol. Thank you for your patience with me!
> 
> If you feel the need to yell at me, you can find me here:  
> [writing acc](https://twitter.com/discounthaunts) / [stan acc](https://twitter.com/discountghosts) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/remeremerem)


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